


When the Dust Settles

by Summer_1



Category: John Wick - Fandom
Genre: Assassins, Blood, Death, F/M, Gore, Guns, Knives, Rage, Rape, Revenge, Rome - Freeform, chaptertwo, johnwick, noncon, santino - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 12:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19318693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summer_1/pseuds/Summer_1
Summary: When the dust settles, who remains?Katrina Blake never wanted this life of torment not out of pity for herself, but for the ones in her way. She was almost out... almost...Now she only trusts one person.John wick•Started: June 21st 2019•I do not own these characters except for the ones I make.





	1. Chapter 1

Blood... everywhere blood. My breaths come out in short bursts, my lungs constricting and becoming more difficult to work with. I groan and twist sideways putting a final bullet between the eyes of an old friend. Well I shouldn't say friend, a real friend wouldn't have tried to gut me from behind.

I slowly make it to my feet my black combat heels the only sound other than my ragged breath. My clothes are officially ruined, I think to myself as I look down at my once pristine baby blue dress now a dark red brown smattered with blue. My knee high leather heeled combat boots still look good through all the trauma. I pull off someone's fingernail from between the laces and grimace. 

My usually pale face with hazel eyes now have littered cuts and bruises forming, my eyes a little red from not only combat but from the mace unfortunately sprayed into them. Overall I'm a fucking mess. I grab my gun off the floor barely managing to walk a little bit, holding onto my side that got shot and stabbed. 

I limp away dragging a trail of blood as I make my way out of the warehouse, following my own bread crumb trail of bodies. I slide my ass into my beat up impala and make my way out. I know I shouldn't be driving like this, but no one's going to save my ass. Besides if someone found me, that's an easy 5 million waiting. There's only one person not keen on collecting that bounty on the head of Katrina Blake.

John wick.


	2. Chapter one: Johnathan

I make my way down the New York roads my vision blurring from the neon signs. I know I can't go to the continental, I'd never make it before they found me. I weigh my options not much liking either, but John would have to be my best bet. It's not often the boogie man owes you a favor. 

No, not a marker, thank god. I never cared much for that rule, never trusting anyone with how to control you like a puppet. I've already done that, never again. I sigh loudly in the emptiness of the car and hit the gas trying to get there before I bleed out. I already notice my fingers going numb. I take another steadying breath, getting lost in a memory of the man I now had to rely on. 

•••••   
"Duck!" I bark over at John, his body goes down, I stand up and take the man out shooting between the eyes. My hazel eyes meet John's dark brown ones, the color of bourbon. 

He blows out a small breath of air disturbing is chin length black hair. He doesn't say anything, a nod his only notice of appreciation before turning to take on the next guy. I watch as he flips the man over his body, I never understood how he was able to fold his body so fluidly. I'm caught up and I feel a gunshot graze my calf taking me down. "Mother fucker!" I shout turning around my trusty combat heels squeaking on the floor as I shoot the man three times.

I get up gritting my teeth as I limp over to John putting out my hand to him. He takes it, surprisingly, and I help him to his feet. I notice blood staining his white collared shirt, and he notices the blood coming from my calf. I look down and frown "he fucking ripped my boot!" I say turning around and shooting him again between the eyes. 

John just gives me a look before turning around to go to the room where Rick Blaught was hiding out. I follow behind him cursing under my breath and looking down at my now ruined Tiny Little Houses band t-shirt, and bloody jeans. 

Rick Blaught wasn't ordinary drug pusher, he liked to use his supply and force others to take it. Well, among forcing other things upon them. John and I were contracted to kill him 2 million each. Apparently Ricky boy had pissed off some high table members, leaving John and I to tend to the... issue. If you could even call his lousy ass an issue.

We make it through the service floor, the lights flickering fluorescent onto our battered skin making the blood and bruises more prominent and stark. My skin looks weird and I shake it off not too shy about blood and guts. Besides, I've been in the business about as long as John.

While we search the floor a man grabs John and points a gun to his head, I lift my gun up and point at the man. "Rick, I wouldn't play this game," I say my eyes flickering to John's as he tries to think a way out of it. My eyes move down to see a knife pressed to his neck as well. "This won't end well for you." I say meeting his blue eyes. 

Rick Blaught wasn't a ladies man at all. His nose was big and showed years of abuse from it breaking. Scars litter his face looking like grotesque marbling on a counter only his aged face is the counter. His blue eyes that I'm sure were killer when he was younger are dulled and dead from years of drug and who knows how much trauma, inflicted on himself or others. I hope I never have eyes like that. "You move an inch I'll blow his head off!" He shouts twitching. He's not much taller than John making it a hard shot to line up. 

I stare him down and move my finger to the trigger my mouth pulled into a frown. "You let me go little lady and I'll make sure his blood and yours are not all over the floor." He growls out of yellowed stained teeth. I grimace and I watch him start to slide the knife and put his finger on the trigger. I watch John's face in surprise as I take the shot. 

Bam. Between the eyes, my signature mark as Rick falls to the floor. I look up at John and take a breath, not realizing I held it. John takes his breath and he stares me down intently. "Thank you." Is all he says before we slowly make our way out of the building, bloodied and sweaty. 

John knew it that day that he owed me, and he would make sure that he would go through with it.   
••••••   
Present: 

I look over to the seat that he sat in that night as I drove us to the continental to see the doc again. My fingers drag off the steering wheel and move down to my right calf as I feel the stitching in the soft leather. I take a deep sigh and move my brown hair out of my face. I notice the gravel driveway trying to block out more memories and drive my way down barely able to keep my eyes open.

I'm at his house, forgetting how big it is and getting caught up in it. White everywhere and a lovely driveway, I notice the dead flower boxes and the neglected rose bush and frown. A pang hits my side and I grunt being slapped into the present. I drag my battered body to the door and I knock on it, leaving a bloody mark on it. "Oopsies" I say looking at it. 

The door opens and the same face that used to always greet me, greets me again. His eyes soften and then harden as he looks at me and takes me in. He grabs me and pulls me inside. "Hello, as always, Johnathan." I say loopy from blood loss. 

"Blake stay with me." He says as I start to fall down. He picks me up and takes me to the couch and gets to work. His jaw working at how much blood is all over me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I feel like this is short but I'm working on writing bigger chapters. Please comment and let me know what you think of it!


	3. Reunions

I'm plagued by memories, soft brown eyes meeting mine over a cup of coffee. Red lipstick staining a note before I left it on the counter. A torn red dress and a broken promise. 

My brain is slow to wake up and function, little ghosts haunting and trying to pull me back to the memories. I don't want to remember those times, the old days from six years ago. Six years going by and I'm back to the same person that almost got me out... key word, almost. 

My eyes flicker open slowly, pain going up from my spine and settling into the base of my skull. I pry my lips a part and move my hand above my head, scars and new scratches and bruises from my hand being slammed in a door greet me. Little faint lines tease my pale skin bringing me back to old memories. I shake my head, bad move. I groan and I close my eyes.

I finally gain enough strength to lift up my upper body, groaning in pain. "Good job Blake," I say to myself in a cynical tone. "You've really outdone yourself." I talk to myself and I notice my body is covered in a pair of light grey sweat pants and a plain black t-shirt. 

I notice the room I'm in, plain white walls and bay windows greet me. A white side table is within my reach, an alarm clock lamp duo inhabit it. A chair is on the other side next to what I can only assume is a closet. The bed I'm on is soft I'm pretty sure costs a lot to have, my fingers brush over soft sheets and a warm baby blue duvet. The headboard is a warm dark oak color setting itself a part from the rest of the room. "You do have tastes, John," I mutter to myself dryly. 

I move to sit up more and all I can feel is more pain. I hiss and grit my teeth and narrow my eyes, if I could kill that bitch again, I'd kill her slower. I take a calming breath and before I can fully move to get up the door opens, silently may I add. My eyes shoot up mid way through another string of curses to meet the bourbon colored eyes that are guarded. His lips are taught and he has scratches along his nose and face. 

"You look great, Johnathan," I say giving him a one-over, he has clean sweats on and now a light heather grey t-shirt. If looks could kill, I'm sure he would've killed me then and there. 

"You're one to talk, Blake," he says walking forward and I then notice the tray with some food, water, and pain pills. I look back up at him as he sets it down on the side table. "You're the one that shows up half dead and laughing." He says not taking his eyes off of mine. 

I can only imagine how bad I look, my eye feels bruised and both swollen from the mace. My arm has nail scratches and I swear a little bit of red nail polish is stuck in it. My brown hair seems dulled and lifeless, not the usual brown red mane that shone in any light. "Hey, I'm only in this mess because of you," I say meeting his eyes coldly. 

"You remember Allison, right?" I ask even though I don't have to, the name registering in his eyes alone. A smirk tugs at my mouth. 

"She was on our side," John says handing me some water and the pain pills. His hands look rough, abused by whoever came across his path. 

"Not anymore," I say dryly before taking the pills and downing all the water. "She took the contract from someone to go after me, trying to get back at you. It seems your last... journey has made me some new friends." I say not breaking my gaze from him, wanting to see every emotion in his mask. 

I see a brief flash of regret over his face before it returns back to its stoic marble state. "I didn't think this would spill onto you, Blake, I'm sorry," He says and I can almost believe him. "How much are they asking?" He says now turning to grab the chair. 

"Five million was the asking price last time I checked," I say watching his every movement, I know if he really wanted to hurt me I'd stand no chance in coming out of it alive. I mull over his words while he brings the cream colored chair over to the side of the bed. "It's open contract, I guess they really want you." I say chuckling. 

He gives me a look, the same look he gave me all those years before in that warehouse. "How the hell do you get five million, and they only wanted two million for me?" He questions, and I swear a bit of hurt crosses his face. 

I smirk up at him and move closer trying not to show the amount of pain I'm in. "I guess after you nicked off a good portion of the Tarasov bloodline everyone's asshole got a little tighter," I say grabbing the food off the side table and eating it slowly. "And the wallets became a little looser out of their own self interest." I say a mouthful of beautifully cooked bacon, waffles, and eggs almost make me moan, almost. 

He watches me his eyes never breaking that intense gaze and studies me for a few moments in silence. "You look like shit," he concludes and he gets back up onto his feet. "Go, take a shower and I'll have clothes ready for you and we'll discuss action." He says curtly. 

"Yeah about that," I say putting the empty plate to the side. "Like what you see?" I ask gesturing to the clothes currently on me. He says nothing and walks out. "Not one to waste words, right." I say getting up slowly. My pale feet reach the cold oak wood floors. I shiver slightly and I make my way to the guest bathroom limping.

I feel the stitches pull a little as I slowly take the t-shirt off my body and throw it to the side. I take myself in, my body looks like shit. My stomach looks like it was used as a pin cushion, cuts littering my body old and new. The gunshot wound is clean and sewn up. I slowly take my pants off and see hand bruises from being picked up by my thighs and slammed into the wall. I grimace as I notice another hand print around my neck. "I should've killed you slower." I say as if I'm talking to Allison. I take the rest of my clothes and throw them to the floor.

I turn away from my ghastly reflection and I pull the door open to the shower and turn it on hot. I step in and I let the water cascade down my back, letting out a sigh at the stinging feeling. I stare at the marble walls and I slowly side down it and sit at the bottom, bringing my knees to my chest slowly and let the water wash my body as much as it can, red swirling down the drain. 

After about 10 minutes of that I get up and get to work on my hair and body scrubbing what I can with what little motion I can use. I step out once the water runs clear and my body looks less bloody more bruised. I grab one of the white fluffy towels and wrap it around my body  and walk out to the bedroom. I'm surprised to see my old black duffle bag on the baby blue duvet. 

I walk over to it and unzip it, grabbing a bra and some underwear, black jeans, an olive green t-shirt, and some black socks. It takes some time to get my clothes on, trying not to disturb the stitches, and trying to just not be in pain. I finally slide the last sock on and I lean back my stitches pull and I get to my feet. I slide on my boots and sigh giving them a pat.

I make my way around and downstairs in the house to the white kitchen, marbled counters and white everywhere. I swear he's trying to desensitize himself and whoever lives here, I think to myself. I see him at the counter mulling over a book and a cup of coffee right next to him. 

I notice the cup being the one I made for him about seven christmases ago. I limp my way to the coffee pot and pour myself a cup in a beige cream cup and take a sip of it, closing my eyes. I feel his on me, my back turned. I finally turn around and meet his eyes. His trials down my body assessing the damage I'm in, assessing if I'm a liability. I make my way over to the opposite side of him and sit down. 

"So, who do we kill first?" I ask him as a knock comes to the door. I meet his eyes briefly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope you enjoy this! Let me know what you think.


	4. Forced compromise

I stare at John his lips pursed, calculating, and I watch a look of uncertainty brush across his face. He doesn't look bad his face is scratched and I can only imagine all the rumors were true about his recent actions. "Do you want me to hide?" I ask him my face going serious. 

He takes a second to mull it over "Yes, hide." He says and gets up his body towers above mine. I quietly get out of the seat and I push it in under the table and make my way over to a hallway closet. I pull my beaten body in as he makes his way to the door to answer. I see his dog and I motion it over to me and sit in the closet with the pup.

"Caio, John." I hear and my blood goes cold. Anger hot red flashes in me and it takes me all my willpower not to take my gun out and shoot him in the head. 

"Santino," is all of the reply he will get from John in this moment. "Café?" John asks making his way to the kitchen, I catch his glance at the closet before he moves to the coffee maker grabbing two new cups out of the cabinet.

"Yes, please," Santino reply's curtly looking around at the place. His eyes land on my coffee cup and I curse to myself quietly. A smirk plays across his lips, he sits down in the black chair at the small table his suit a proper black and fitting well. I hate it. "I'm sorry to hear about your wife." Santino says checking his surroundings before John makes his way back. 

"Thank you, but I don't think you're here for condolences," John says sitting down and taking a drink of his coffee not wavering his eyes off of Santino. 

"Never one to small talk," Santino chuckles darkly. "Before we get started, there's one more guest I haven't been introduced too." He says looking over at my hiding place. I purse my lips and I watch John's eyes darken a small frown on his face. 

I make my way out of the closet letting the dog out and closing it behind me and taking a breath. I don't look at the men as I try to hide my limp and make my way over to my cup. I refill the cup trying to control myself before talking with satan's off spring. I turn back around take a drink of my coffee and calmly make my way to the small table. Not a word is spoken in that time and I take a seat at the third chair. "Santino," I growl out and nod. 

"Ah Katrina, Belleza." He says grabbing my busted up hand and giving it a kiss. I don't look at him instead look at my coffee cup and look up at John who hasn't lost focus on Santino. I flick my eyes over to Santino and he meets mine, his eyes are nothing like John's. His eyes speak of venom and danger, calculation and death. He smiles even his smile has a calculation behind it. "You hurt me so, I haven't been graced with your presence in so... long." He says giving me a one over. 

"I've been busy," I say taking my hand away and grabbing the coffee cup. "Cut to the chase, what do you want?" I ask him and he looks over to John. He reaches into his suit pocket and grabs out two markers. My face drains of blood and I go pale. "I paid my marker in full." I say standing. 

He looks up at me smiling like a shark. "Ah yes, belleza, you have, but he hasn't." He says looking over at John. "I hope you liked my little present, I always thought you chose bad fiends Katrina, but I figured it'd drive you here." He says handing my marker. "Here you go, I should remind you that you do still owe me a small favor." He says backing both John and I into a corner he knows he shouldn't. 

"I wouldn't do this Santino, you know we're out." John says trying to get Santino to pull focus off of you. "If Katrina has paid her marker, leave her out of this and leave me out." John's eyes flash a dangerous hint to them sending a shiver down my spine. I take a seat slowly feeling the pain coming back. 

"Well she's paid her marker but she owes me, clearing the way here to you." Santino says smirking and I feel rage deep in my blood. "She and I have business to attend to so she comes with me. If it weren't for me every assassin in a 10 mile radius would be going for that five million bounty. I made sure she got here safely." He says glancing at me and then back to John who's jaw is so clenched I'm worried he's going to break it. 

"Like hell, shit dick." I say getting up and moving away grabbing my gun out of the waistband of my jeans. He doesn't blink just smiles. "I paid you back and you know it!" I say grabbing the marker and showing his bloody print next to mine. 

"I wouldn't refuse if I were both of you, I can promise you won't like the outcome." He says no longer playing the game. His face hardens and he gets up. "Last chance John." He says looking over to the stoic man who stands up with him. 

"I'm not doing this anymore Santino I'm out of the game." John says moving in front of me blocking Santino. "There has to be another way." John says trying to find a way to compromise.

"John there's only one way," Santino says moving a little closer. "My way." He says leaving I watch in rage as he fixes his suit and exits the house.

I look at John my face pale and his angry, the kind of anger I haven't seen in years. "He's planning something," John says looking over at the door. "Grab your bag now." He says trying to find time to get his shit together. 

I don't respond and book it as fast as I can up the stairs and grab my black duffle a string of curses. I look out the window and see him opening the trunk of one of the cars and I book it downstairs and hand John the duffle. "He's not playing John he's going to do something." I say looking up at him. 

Before John can reply we hear a shattered window and a thunk. My eyes widen and I move to take cover, but before I can I'm blown back through the window feeling my stitches give me the final middle finger as I hit the ground hard. A couple of men come out back. I see John a hundred feet from me and I try to crawl my way up. Before I can two men grab me and put a cloth over my mouth and I watch John struggle to get up to fight them off of me. He struggles and I watch him as I get dragged away.

I face black as they drag me away into an unmarked car leaving my impala and duffle to John. Santino gets in next to me and smiles. "I tried to warn you, Belleza." He says kissing my bloodied hand and licking the blood off his lips and drives off. 

John gets up and sees the dog is okay and sighs but feels panic as he watches cars leave his driveway. A burning house is all that's left. His teeth clench and he gets out in time for fire trucks to come. "They aren't taking her." He says and gets in my Impala the dog hoping into the passenger side and drives out of there ignoring Jimmy.


	5. Lessons

I slowly manage to pry my eyes open from the black. Some of the images come flooding back to me. My marker, John's eyes, Santino's smirk, being blown back, and then the final image of John. It all comes back and I take a look around. I'm in a dimly lit room and in the chair in front of me is shit dick Santino. 

I look him dead in the eye and try to speak, but a gag is in my mouth. His eyes light up and he stands inspecting the solid iron chains that hold me up. I've been in this place before only this time I'm the one up on the wall. "Good morning la mia bellezza," Santino says brushing a finger across my cheek coming back red and licking it off his finger. "I hope you can forgive my dreadful manners." He says moving back again to look at me fully. 

I glare at him my hazel eyes speaking silent threats of removing his spine with my hand. He chuckles and steps closer. "Would you like the gag off?" He asks me moving his finger to the edge. I move my head away trying to use his finger as a way to get it out. He pulls his hand away and shakes his head. "Tisk tisk la mia bellezza that's not how this goes." He says in a sing song voice. 

I watch him pull out a switchblade and I roll my eyes, of course he's going to hit all the cliche's. I watch him run the tip down my cheek moving down my neck and trace my collarbones. His eyes dance around on my skin. "I must say I'm sorry for the way your friend treated you during your... discussion." He trails off and looks up at me. 

His eyes are softer as he gazes up at me. He puts his hand back up and pauses at the gag. "la mia bellezza if I remove this you better hold your tongue," He says slowly moving it out of my mouth. My jaw aches and I wonder how long I've been out. I work my jaw as I glare back down at him. His hand trails down my cheek and to my shoulder and grasps it hard. I groan and I stare him down with as much venom as possible. 

"Where's Wick?" I ask him through gritted teeth. His fingers clasp harder at the question and his eyes darken. He let's go and he turns around and rummages in a bag. 

"John wants to meet here soon, I'm told he just left the continental. It seems I have a date waiting, as much as I want to stay here with you." He says coolly and turns back around his hands behind his back. "Unfortunately I will have to postpone our lovely meeting." He says coming closer and putting the gag back in hitting me with another round of whatever was drugged on me. Now I see black again.

••••••  
P.O.V: John

I calmly make my way through the front of the museum my eyes staying dead ahead ready to tear Santino a new asshole. I'm stopped by guards and felt up... a little too much. I eye the short haired woman who smirks and signs to the other men. I nod to her and I make my way to Santino. 

I take a seat next to him as he explains the painting in front of us. I don't even look at it I just stare him down till he looks back to me, a ghost of a smirk on his face. "She asked about you," Santino says testing the waters of my temper. My jaw clicks a little bit from the tightness. 

"I wonder though how will you kill me? You're sizing up the room, counting the exits, the amount of guards. But how will you kill me?" He says once more looking around the room. "With that woman's pen, that man's cane?" He asks now looking at me dead on. 

"With my hands." I say guttural and ready to take this man apart one limb at a time. His stupid smirk comes back to his face. 

"Now, now, John. I don't want to have to hurt  la mia bellezza because of your lack of caut-"

"Enough games Santino, what do you want from me? I'll do it as long as you let her go as well." I say cutting to the chase before he can taunt me any further. He shifts towards me his suit bunching up a bit. 

"That has to be a record amount of words from you, John," He says looking quite impressed. "I'll humor you, I'll let her go but you must kill my sister." He says looking me dead in the eye now. "I get money and the artwork from my father, and she gets his seat at the high table." He says anger under the surface of his tone. 

"Do you want to do this John? I will release her but if you fail, I get to use your mark on her." He says smiling. I nod my head and I get up walking calmly out of the museum and back to the continental to prepare. 

•••••••

My head is on fire and my eyes can barely open this time. This is getting really fucking old quick. I think to myself as I force my eyes open. He's sitting there watching me like a creep. He seems lost in thought and I watch him trying to get an edge on him. He seems angry and saddened at the same time, his lips are pursed and his eyebrows scrunched. 

Unfortunately it doesn't last long till his eyes flick up to mine and the guard slams back into place, blocking me from intruding more into his feelings. He slowly gets to his feet, his brown leather dress shoes squeaking against the floor. "I do have to apologize for this," He says motioning to my current state of being. I roll my eyes in response as he makes his way closer. 

"It seems that lover boy is willing to take the mark after all." His grin comes to his face. "Ah  la mia bellezza you and I we can take the high table together. That's all I want from you, is you." He says moving closer and caressing my face, his thumb sliding over the bruise on my cheek. His hand moves down to the gag and takes it out. 

"You and I we had our time Santino, you fucked that up the second you used my marker against me!" I spat back out and spit in his face. His face turns stoic and his hand slides off my face. "You're a piece of shit." I say before he slaps me, hard. 

"You should really know when to hold your tongue, Katrina." He growls out and he takes out the same switchblade from before and puts it up to my mouth carving a little slit in my lip. "You should be kissing my feet at the shit I've done for you!" He bellows and I hold back my flinch. "Maybe John won't mind if you come back... mute." He says softer as he digs the tip of the blade between my teeth. 

He's stopped by a guard coming in. "Sir, John Wick is requesting Mrs. Blake." Santino removes the blade from my mouth and turns around calmly. He goes forward and reaches into his bag pulls out a gun and shoots the guard. It's only then I flinch. 

"You got lucky, la mia bellezza," He says softly and turns back around a key now in hand as he unlocks the iron chains dropping me to the floor with a thud. "Our next meeting together remember what you've learned." He says dragging me off the floor. 

My stitches seemed to have popped on my side causing blood to stain my once clean shirt. "Whoops," trails out of his mouth as he stares down at the blood. "Now what do you say?" He asks me gripping my arm tight. 

"I'm sorry," I say and he grips harder for sure leaving a bruise and looks at me expectantly. "I'm sorry, sir." I grind out. 

"Good girl, lets go." He says dragging me along out of the dark room and into an overly bright hallway. I'm barely able to keep up with his pace, limping my way as he drags me with him in the elevator. We take the back way out and I'm shoved into a black town car and taken to the continental. At least I got here without dying, I think to myself cynically before I'm shoved out of the car by ass wipe.

At the front is John his eyes gazing at Santino and move over to me taking me in, his jaw set tight. I'm shoved up the steps by Santino. "Remember, Wick, you must complete the task." He says fixing his hair a little and turns away "be seeing you, la mia bellezza" He says over his shoulder and gets back into the town car. 

I look up at John and his eyes soften a bit. "Come on, let's go see the doc." He says guiding me into the safe lines of the continental and to the front desk.

 

~~~~~~~   
A/N: hope you enjoy! I hope to get out one more chapter today and maybe some tomorrow. As always vote and let me know what you think!


	6. Maybe, forgiveness

John rushed me into the the hotel room barely nodding to Charon at the desk. Room 101 greeted me as I felt the wooziness of blood loss. "I'm going to hurt him, bad," I growl out to John as he helps me sit in a chair. I throw my t-shirt off and hiss from the pain. 

I notice John staring at my Tattoo's the ones that run up along my rib cage, a bird chasing a lion. "Seems stupid to have a tattoo where you get stabbed a lot," John says now inspecting the torn stitches on the four inch long gash on my side. 

"Seems like it's none of your beeswax," I retort trying to hold in the groans of pain. I can not and I mean can not show weakness in front of him. He looks up at me and I swear I see him put his guard down a little, then there's a knock at the door. 

I'm able to take a good look at the room while John answers. I'm on a round back red chair, probably a good thing with staining. There's one bed and my eyebrow ticks up at that, the bed looks soft, the duvet a deep red. The large windows in front of the bed showcase the beauty that is New York City. A glass coffee table is on my right and on it a bottle of Jack Daniels. 

I smile at the old man that makes his way into the area, he nods and grabs tools. I grab the bottle of Jack and take a deep drink of it as the old man cleans my wound and takes out the old stitches. "It's probably a good thing you got me," I say how meeting john's intense gaze. "Santino was planning on taking my tongue. Probably likes them like that considering his new guard." I say referring to the girl John had just met. 

"You're the one owing me?" He asks but I know he's stating that I do. I look up at him and nod my head, short, the same treatment he gives me. Petty, I know. "You really should be careful, you're lucky we have two days to rest before Rome." I frown as the doc pours some cleaning liquid onto it and bite the inside of my cheek. 

"It doesn't seem fair, that I owe you," I say calmly watching doc work his magic on the wound starting to stitch it up. "I'm tired of owing people, it's gotten me nowhere and now I'm stuck in the same place I tried to leave with the same son of a bitches." I say grinding out the last part as doc hits a particularly hard spot. 

John takes time to reply watching the doc stitch me back up, thinking of a way to lessen the anger between us. It surprises me when he grabs a chair and sits next to me, forcing me to meet his intense stare. "I mean it, Blake, I never wanted this to spill onto you, and for that you don't owe me." His hand grasps onto mine, his eyes hold that same look it held all those years ago when he tried to help me out of this life. 

"We really got fucked over, didn't we?" I ask taking another gulp of the drink letting it wash over me and the memories. He lets out a dark chuckle and squeezes my hand. Before he can respond the doc finishes pouring some more of the cleaning shit making me groan. 

"I'm almost done, I need to inspect your other wounds, Mrs. Blake." He says curtly poking and prodding at my bullet wound. 

"Please, Doc, you've seen me in my bra and cleaned up my wounds, call me Katrina." I say kindly to the old man in front of me. I meet his old gaze and he nods in agreement before going back to what he does best. 

"Katrina, do you want to go to Rome?" John asks me now pulling my attention away from my new favorite person. "You don't have to, I can do this on my own." His voice sounds tired and I catch a glimpse of a man who has to mourn a lot of things. 

"You know I won't let you go alone," my soft tone pulls him out of his daze. My hand coming back to meet his lightly touching it. "You have a lot to do, and not many friends to do that with, and besides Santino is a bitch and I'll be dammed if I let him win against you." 

His eyebrow quirks up at my statement, "I'm handing him the high table position the second I kill his sister." John says as if I'm an idiot who doesn't understand power. I roll my eyes and look him dead on. 

"No, we're going to take down his position at the high table. You don't really think he's going to let you just kill his sister and let me escape?" I question my nose scrunched up as doc removes some stitches and sews it back up. "He wants me to join him at the table and I'm not about to do that." My tone is deadly, and I watch John closely as realization hits a little. 

"Then I guess it's time we remove the D'Antonio blood line." His tone is dark and his hands grip onto mine a little harder. The callouses are slowly coming back, I can tell and I look at him. Really look at him this time. His eyes seem lost and dark a sadness just behind them and a spark of hope. 

"I'm sorry John, I understand it's been hard." I whisper and I lean in and give him a hug. He stiffens and then leans into it, like old times. We used to be a good team together. 

"I know, and I'm sorry for what happened to Tyler." John whispers back into my hair and I smile a sad smile into his shoulder. "They'll pay, all of them." Resolve is in his tone and I lean back and take another drag of the bottle and nod. 

"That should be all, Mrs. Blake," doc says getting up, and I along with him. His eyes seem kind as he looks at John and I. "Don't worry, I know to keep my mouth shut on what... transpired." He ends taking the two gold coins. John walks him out and comes back into the living area.

"We gotta head to Rome now to get things set up," he walks forward and takes the bottle out of my hand. "This will require you stay sober." He doesn't look serious but I salute him. 

"Sir yes sir!" I say giving a stupid grin and turn around to grab my duffle that he saved. We make our way out of the hotel and make it to Rome without consequence, I can only imagine who made that possible, I think to myself cynically. 

John and I barely talk on the trip there, getting to the hotel. John and a man named Julius talk to each other and I hear the question if we are here to kill the pope and I snort trying to hide my laugh. Eventually they are done talking and we end up getting the suite.

I take the card from John plucking it from his long fingers and get in the elevator bouncing like a child. The gold in the elevator reflects the image of me and John. I see him looking ahead and looking over at me in the reflection. I wink and snap my fingers at him making little finger guns. "It is revenge tiiiime," I grab John by the shoulders and smile wildly. 

We make our way out of the elevator and into a beautiful hallway that leads to a white wooden door. I use the card I swiped to get in first before John and I jump on the beautiful bed. It was white with a gold blanket draped on the end. The room was huge and large windows look out on Rome. 

Paintings of 1300's adorn the walls with immaculate gold wallpaper. I crawl off the bed and run my fingers along the wall. A fully stocked bar in an oak wood cabinet sits by the door. John watches me as I stare out at the beauty. "You act like you've never seen Rome before." His tone isn't rude just matter of factly. 

I turn back around to him and frown a bit. "You  obviously never stopped to appreciate how beautiful it really is." I retort and grab some wine out of the cabinet. "You have access to all of these things and go to all of these places yet you never stop to realize how beautiful they are. Murder aside, of course, but so many people never get this." I gesture to the view. 

He seems to think over my words and we set into comfortable silence. I take the bed and I look over at him. "I'm going to nap because I've been having a rough couple of days. You should too." I pat the side of the bed. "Don't act like we haven't slept in the same bed either, we got history Wick, it may not be sexual but it's history." He watches me with a cool gaze and sits on the side next to me. 

I lay down and I pull the gold blanket over me and turn my back to him. It doesn't take me long to fall into an eventful sleep.


	7. The Devil’s Offer

When I look back on the point of no return with this life I can pin point it to the exact moment I was introduced to Santino D’Antonio. From the first time he laid eyes on me I could tell he found another conquest, but did not like that this conquest refused him. I almost gave in at one point in my naive attempt to make friends in a world that would sooner kill you than wave white flags. He seemed nice when I met him trying to look past that look in his eyes, maybe he just put on a front, maybe he was... human.

•••••••  
Past:

I smoothed down the shiny red satin dress I was able to buy with my new gold coins. I toy around with my gold snake ring, my show of my own venom. It didn’t seem to fit in a place full of black, like anyone was dressed for a funeral. I was new, a baby in a world of people who could easily take me out. Fortunately the party took place at the continental, I was safe, for now. 

I was ordering from the bar girl Addy when someone slid right next to me. I look over and I see a pair of sea glass eyes that stare at me, a smirk plays the corner of his mouth, tousled yet put together brown curls, and a tight black suit on a man who I assume is here to try and get me. I turn back to the girl and I smile, trying to ignore him and take my martini. I go to slide a coin onto the table for my tab but I’m stopped by a calloused hand. 

“Please la Mia bellezza, let me get this round for you,” so, he’s a smooth talker, I mentally note to myself. His smile is that of a shark looking for his next kill. He must do well down here in a sea of sharks. And I must look like blood in the water, a new girl in a bright red dress. I remove my hand and I look up at him a smile gracing my face, annoyance hidden behind it. 

“Well, thank you that’s much appreciated,” I don’t know how the smooth words tumble out of my mouth so gracefully, but I stick the landing. I look over at the girl and all that’s seen is a raised eyebrow and she takes the coin. My eyes shift back over to his as he takes in my full appearance. “Katrina Blake, it’s nice to meet you.” I bite the inside of my cheek a little, force of habit when meeting new people. 

“Santino D’Antonio, at your service,” he grabs my hand again and gives it a feather light kiss. “I must say, I have not been graced with your presence here before.” Ah, so that’s the motivation, fresh blood, trying to see if I’m dangerous or not. I notice his eye on my ring before he respectfully removes his hand. 

I size him up while he talks, he’s not stocky, nor lanky, about six feet tall and I was guessing about 40 years old. “Yes, I am new to all of this,” I gesture lightly to the club we are in. “Was told of an... opportunity I couldn’t pass, and it seems to have lead me into this lifestyle.” I meet his gaze, not wanting to feign weak. He seems to take joy in my freshness and naivety. 

“Well, I must welcome you to our... family,” I snort a little at that comment. He seems surprised, a little eyebrow tick and a flash of the eyes are his only give away. “I see you haven’t been properly introduced, but I promise you, we do take care of each other.” I take a sip of my drink and carefully watch him. 

“I’m sure you can show me at some other time.” I’m sure he’s not used to girls not being immediately impressed with his smooth talk. His finger strokes along my hand ending at the tip of my black shiny nail. “But as of now, thank you for buying the drink.” I tip my glass to him and finish off the rest of it. I gesture to Addy for another drink and I see she already has it prepared. 

Before I’m able to grab my drink my attention is pulled to a fight between two men. Most likely drunk and stupid, both have short hair one is blonde and the other has red hair. Soon the brawl is taken right next to Santino and I. One of them is close to hitting me and I grab his fist before he can land the blow on the red head. He looks up at me and goes to hit me with the other fist. I block that one as well and hit him in the family jewels. He drops to the floor and the other guy is staring. “Boys please take it outside and do not ruin my dress.” 

I turn away and I see a full smirk on Santino’s face as he watches the guys tread off in opposite directions. He has a glass now, what looks like to be whisky in it and he hands me my martini. I tip my glass and take a drink, as does he. “You seem like you can handle yourself, Katrina. That’s a good thing to have down here. I’m interested in working with you at some point,” the devils offer, my inner monologue goes off. “Would you like to?” His offer seems shady but maybe just maybe I can have a friend in all of this. 

I take a drink and consider it for a moment letting it settle into my body, trying to leave him on edge. “We should work together, see how it goes, no strings attached and I’ll decide after that,” I smile at him and I finish the rest of my martini. If you do need me, I’ll be in room four-thirteen, tenth floor.” I slide my gold coin onto the the bar and walk off before he can respond. 

I make my way out of the club and back up to the lobby and into the gold elevator. This place seems too lavish for a bunch of grimey spies and assassins. I make my way out and down the hall passing a few people, I nod to them and they nod to me. I hear the stairwell door open and close but pay no mind opening the door to my room. I walk in and let it shut itself growing tired of the long diamond earrings and take them out setting them onto the lavish glass table, I sigh as I look out on New York. Each time I see it, it’s as if I’m seeing it for the first time.

It’s only too late that I see the reflection of a man behind me, the same blonde from before, he has a towel from the bathroom wrapped in his hands. He pulls it over my head and around my throat trying to choke me out. I try to pull myself out from under but I’m met with more strength as he pulls me into his chest. “You shouldn’t have fucked with me you dumb bitch,” he grinds out, he smells of alcohol and cheap cologne. I push the heel of my heel into his foot and push us back. He roars and knees my back. I start to feel faint when I see my earring, I reach for it and grab the damn thing and aim upward shoving it into his eye. 

He lets me go screaming profanities at me dropping me and the towel, I try to move away and his foot is on my dress. I tear the end of it off and try to get out into the hall, dip shit in tow. He grabs onto my ankle and pulls me to the floor, my body smacks into it with a thud and I move my foot back and hit him. I try to hit him again and he grabs my other foot, gripping onto it hard and pulling me towards him. I grunt and grab onto the decorative table by a room and it falls over, I grab onto the vase and hit him in the head with it, letting it shatter. 

During the fight I don’t hear the door by mine open, stepping out a tall man with long dark hair and what I can only describe as the definition of tall dark and handsome. His eyes land on the man and I watch him pull out a gun and put it to the man’s head. “Jared, if I were you, I’d consider letting go of the lady,” his tone is dark, dangerous, the first guy I met to actually scare me. 

The dick wad I now know as Jared gets off of me and I think he might have shit his pants at the man above him. He gets off the floor throwing my earring at me and runs to the stairwell, slamming it open and booking it down. The man sticks his hand out and I take it, he pulls me up and walks into my open room, grabs the phone and tells the desk manager of what happened. “Thank you,” I say to him and grab a bottle of bourbon. 

I take the two non-shattered glasses off the table put a piece of ice in each and pour some of the drink in. I turn back around and I hand him the glass, he seems surprised by this. I take the drink and feel a burn on my mouth now noticing the busted up lip. “You okay?” Was his only question as he takes a drink of his. 

“Peachy,” I don’t mean to come off sarcastic and bitchy but I notice the dress and frown. I try to shake it off, it’s only a dress. “Really though, thank you, I’m Katrina Blake.” I hold out my hand and I take his in mine, his hand is calloused but soft. 

“John Wick,” not a man of many words I guess. We sit in a healthy silence drinking the rest of the bourbon, house cleaning coming and going, transforming the room back to what it was, like nothing ever happened. “I’m guessing you’re new here.” It’s more of a statement than a question. 

“I am yes,” tiredness seeps into my voice and crawling up my body like vines. I sigh and I take a last drink of the bourbon. “Unfortunately I’ve only made a friend and an enemy.” He seems curious about this. 

“Well, you’ve earned me as a friend,” he gets up, adjusting his black suit and I walk him to the door. “You seem very tired, Katrina, I won’t keep you any longer. If any more trouble steps your way, let me know.” He leaves my room before I can say anything and I just shut the door behind him. I let out another sigh and go to the bottle, closing it and putting it back into the oak cabinet I retrieved it from. 

There’s a knock at my door and I assume John has left something. I walk over to the door and I open it, Santino is on the other side, a frown on his face. “I heard of the intrusion, la Mia bellezza, I’m sure management is going to take care of that, I just wanted to check in on you,” he walks into the room and I notice a bottle of wine in his hand. He takes a look around and turns back “I see house keeping has taken care of it.” He puts the bottle on the table by the oak cabinet. 

“Yes, they came in earlier,” I don’t know how to deal with him, my patience with people dancing on thin ice. At least John didn’t want to talk this much. He steps closer to me and runs a thumb across my lower lip, causing the cut to sting. His eyebrows scrunch together and he looks genuinely upset with my current state of my beaten face. “Thank you for the wine, and for checking in on me, that’s is very kind of you.” I try to shut him out, no letting in sharks. 

“Of course, I think I’ve made a friend in you, and I surely don’t want to leave a friend like this,” He steps away from me and makes his way back to the door. “Get some rest, and if you need anything, and I mean anything let me know. Good night, la mi bellezza.” He kisses my cheek and exits my room. 

I sigh and I slide the dress off of me not bothering to take care of it, it’s ruined anyway. I’m left in my underwear and I turn the light off, pulling my hair up and going to bed, not bothering with much else. 

••••••  
Present:

I awake from the memory feeling hazy and uneasy. The memory of Santino seems so long ago. It’s hard to believe John was still around either, at that thought I turn around and I see John asleep, his back turned. 

I get up trying to shake off the memory, the thought of the two men who changed me and my whole world. The men I met on the same night both starkly different and both calling themselves my friend. I stare out at the beauty of Rome feeling like I did those many years ago, now changed. Oh how the times have changed. 

It’s at that thought that a question plagued my mind, who will we be when the dust settles?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: this one is longer than the ones before. Maybe doing about twice a week upload will help with length. As always, enjoy and let me know what you think.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N will try to upload as much as possible! Enjoy please, give feedback. This is my first work on here and just first in general.


End file.
